


Guilt

by Dragon_Scribe



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilt, Heaven, Hell, I Made Myself Cry, Manga Spoilers, Marco is Freckled Jesus, My First AO3 Post, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 10:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11183436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Scribe/pseuds/Dragon_Scribe
Summary: After Bertholdt's death, he finds himself where he least expected. In the midst of his emotional turmoil, a familiar face appears before him.*Based on a piece of fan art that I found and cried over *





	Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> All credit goes to the artist of this beautifully painful art :
> 
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/77/97/1c/77971c82313714da04bbe6ccf5397fba.jpg

 

People always said that in the moments before death, their life flashes before their eyes, recounting all of their memories, whether good or bad. Bertholdt discovered that this was not true. No memories appeared, just an unreal hyperawareness of everything around him. He remembered every moment of his death. He remembered the looks on his past comrades’ faces as they watched the events play out; the raw terror as his former friend, in the body of the very monsters that they once swore to kill, grabbed him in his large hand; the desperate cries he made that Reiner or Annie would miraculously come to his rescue; the sheer agony as large, blunt teeth closed and crunched onto his head. Then, there was nothing. Nothing but an endless void of darkness. He felt no more pain. Just dread. Certainly, he was going to Hell for eternity. After all of the monstrous deeds that he committed in his life, he was sure of it. And he deserved it. He caused so much suffering; he killed so many. He deserved to burn forever. Squeezing his eyes as tightly as he could, he prepared himself for hellfire. There was something resembling a warm breeze that washed over him. The weight of his body began to leak out, leaving him feeling utterly weightless. His olive green eyes fluttered open. A bright white light made him immediately snap them shut again. Confusion bloomed in his chest as he blinked to adjust to the light. There was nothing but an expanse of white spread out as far as he could see. He stood on what felt like solid ground except it swirled up and curled around his calves in smoky tendrils. Looking down, he found his body clear of injuries or blood, adorned in loose, white clothing. He gasped as realization slapped him across the face. Was this… Heaven? His head shook in disbelief. This couldn’t be Heaven. He couldn’t be here.

“Why?” he asked aloud, his voice scratchy. Bertholdt felt no relief, only guilt. It pressed down on his chest like a lead weight. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve solitude or peace. Tears formed in his eyes as he fell to his knees. His hands clutched his hair as he sobbed. One question was all that he could think about:

_Why is a monster like him in Heaven?_

A soft touch on his shoulder made him reflexively flinch. Slowly, he looked up. Standing above him was a silhouette, illuminated by light from behind. When the figure’s face became visible, his eyes widened. His dead heart launched into his throat and his entire being went stiff. “M-Marco?” he whispered. Marco Bodt smiled down on him. Marco: his fallen comrade, his friend who he watched die in agony because of him, looked at his murderer with the same friendly expression he had in life. The kneeling boy’s hand dropped to his mouth to muffle the scream of agony that threatened to rip itself out of his body. Bertholdt killed Marco. Bertholdt only watched as Marco’s equipment, which would have saved his life, was taken from him. Bertholdt stood by as that damned titan grabbed Marco, still begging that they could talk about the cursed secret he was not supposed to hear. Bertholdt only looked away, with tears cascading from his eyes, when Marco screamed in agony as his right side was eaten. His victim stood before him in Heaven, with a _smile_. He stared at him in shocked sadness. Marco’s hazel eyes flooded with understanding. He opened his arms and held them out for him. Bertholdt couldn’t stop himself for launching up, rushing into his friend’s arms. He clutched onto Marco like he was the only being keeping him from descending into insanity. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He sobbed like a mantra as he buried his face into Marco’s shoulder. Marco’s arms wrapped tightly around him in a warm embrace and his hands rubbed soothing circles into Bertholdt’s back.

“It’s okay, Bertholdt.” He spoke, making the taller boy wail at the familiarly soft voice.

“I-It’s not okay, M-Marco!” He cried, tightening his hold a fraction more. “You’re dead because of me! I didn’t do anything to save y-you! God, you didn’t deserve to die! You had your whole life ahead of you! Y-You could have had a life as an MP with Jean, just like you wanted! But-But,” Bertholdt cut himself off, the overwhelming guilt and pain he felt searing through every cell in his body. The arms around him squeezed him tighter.

“I forgive you, Bertholdt. We were both victims in that world. It’s not either of our faults what happened.” Marco said. Bertholdt nearly laughed at the absurdity of that statement.

“You were an angel on earth, Marco. I’m-I’m a monster. I’ve killed so many people. Their blood is on my hands. And I-I killed you, Marco,” He whimpered, his legs failing to support his body and making him kneel back on the ground, with Marco following him down. “Why am I here? Why am I in Heaven after everything I’ve done?” Marco gently eased Bertholdt away from him to look at him face to face. God, Bertholdt had missed him. He was always so kind to him. He never teased him for his anxious personality and made sure he was never lonely. He talked to him and Bertholdt honestly considered him a true friend. And look how he repaid him for becoming his friend. Marco stared into his eyes, searching.

“Did you want to do all of those things?” he asked.

“No. Never.” Bertholdt answered, truthfully. The pure angel before him smiled sadly.

“Then you deserve to be here.”


End file.
